Jessica Discovers Discipline

She is dressed as instructed for the rendezvous. A simple but elegant black dress. She added black fishnet stockings. Her long straight blonde hair is untied. She looks adorable. We had picked the George, near Union Station, for this first meeting. Jessica was familiar with the area since she was working near the Capitol, and I remembered she had mentioned liking Belgian-style mussels since taking a trip there a couple years ago. The George serves delicious mussels a la poulette, and also happens to offer a little selection of Belgian ales to accompany the main dishes. As I walk her to the bar area, I deliver a not very hard, but still firm swat on her behind. The flesh bounces invitingly under my touch. A first introduction.

She is not shocked, but rather looks back with a puzzled smile. We sit at a corner of the bar away from the bartender. It is very quiet here, not unusual for a Saturday - most of their clientele comes during the week. She didn't want to meet over dinner or lunch, we settled for informal afternoon drinks and snacks. We exchange a few polite sentences, but after a few minutes, I want to bring the interest that has brought us together here today in the centre of conversation.

"From now on, I expect you to behave like a young lady, Jessica, you know what will happen if you don't."

She turns her pretty blonde-framed visage to face me and smiles shyly.

"I will do my best, Sir..."

She works for the Treasury, started there a few months ago and is very excited about the opportunity. She moved to DC 3 three years ago to finish her finance degree, and is glad she got to stay here rather than moving back to Ohio or move to another city. We both order a Leffe brune, served in the proper wide-mouthed glass stamped with the abbey logo. We talk some more about the trip she took to France and Belgium last year, then it is her turn to bring our common interest in the conversation:

"What I really like about our exchanges in emails and on the phone is that you really share my idea of discipline in a relationship. I think I told you I tried to bring this in a couple of past relationships before, but it really left me with the opposite effect eventually."

As the conversation shifts to private matters she has brought her face very close to mine and lowered her voice; we must certainly look like lovers to an outsider. Feeling her breath is sexy. Her fragrance is delicate and suits her perfectly. I start to feel like I am under a spell. She is very beautiful, and her voice is soft and soothing, eminently feminine.

"I think a lot of guys will do what the girl wants, at least in the beginning", she goes on. "But if you end up, you now, topping from the bottom... it's just not the same. I decided some time ago I really wanted this on the table as a premise to a new relationship, not leave it to chance after I met somebody, and see if they're into it or not. It would sound weird to most, but I wouldn't want to make any decision about considering if someone is right for me in a relationship until they have disciplined me first. Kind of like starting on the right foot, if that makes any sense at all. But it does to me... I know we've discussed it online, but I want to hear you say it in person... what type of relationship are you the most interested in?"

"Well, Jessica, first I'd say I'm very romantic, I really think romance is one of the main two keys to a successful relationship, everyday romance, and that starts with the smallest details. You never recover from the door you don't hold for your girl that first time... I have this idealized vision of a relationship where you both give their best, like everyday is a presentation to the board..."

She laughs.

"And then there is this interest of ours... I think, just as there is regular coffee and espresso, there is the slap on the butt and there is discipline. Forgive the comparison, it is very simplistic, I realize it.... To me, spanking, to be fully experienced, must be in the context of discipline. I want you to feel, I want every ounce of you to know you are receiving a correction. There is a cycle out there, and regardless how you organize your life, if it is a strict domestic discipline relationship or a more casual approach, to me a woman needs to be disciplined regularly, and if the man doesn't do it she'll give him hell. As you can see I am a man of contrasts, romantic and disciplinarian... but I happen to think the two go well together."

She takes a deeper breath, and I feel she is totally at peace with herself and her decision to meet me here today. Before we know it, we have been talking for over an hour. My hand touches hers on the counter, then holds it tightly.

"I want you to do something now, Jessica... I want you to go to the ladies room, remove your panties, and come right back holding them hidden in your hand. Then I want you to hand them to me, and sit on the stool, making sure you sit directly on the stool top, without the protection of your dress... Go now!"

She holds my hand to keep her balance as she steps down from her stool, and without looking back, disappears towards the ladies room. About 2 minutes later she walks back into the bar, her right hand making a fist. She doesn't look straight at me, but once she reaches my chair, she slowly extends her right hand towards mine, and I feel the delicate fabric now in my palm.

"Good, Jessica, you can sit now."

And, as I put the tiny black panties in my jacket front pocket, she prepares herself to sit on her stool again, but this time, with one simple gesture, holds the hem of her dress and sits directly on the cold leather seat.

"It's cooold...!"

"And that is the point, young lady...", I said whispering to her ear, "I want you to know how cold your little butt can get so you fully appreciates how hot it will be later this evening..."

She blushes violently.

"But I thought we were just getting to know each other! Aren't jumping the gun just a little...?"

Her smile is mischievous.

"I seem to remember we left any possible development after meeting for drinks open, girl, and I think you deserve to be much more uncomfortable than you are now, not next week, not tomorrow, but this very evening..."

She doesn't respond for a few seconds, but I can hear her slow, deep breathing.

"I think... I think you are right, Sir."

"I'm glad you see the point."

And, getting closer to her again, as if I was going to whisper in her ear, instead I kiss her on her forehead.

"You were very wise, by the way, to start calling me Sir, girl. I expect you to address me properly the rest of the evening. Now... you told me in an email about a fraternity paddle you keep in an old treasure chest in your bedroom?"

"Yyees."

"Well, it better be as effective as you told me, I would hate, for your sake, to have to use my belt on your first date."

"I... "

She giggles nervously.

'I don't think you will be disappointed, Sir... I just..."

"Yes?"

"I would just like... I'd like to ask you to be gentle, Sir, as it is my first real spanking."

I can see now she is absorbing the idea that she is about to get spanked, and she is looking at me very nervously.

"And what were you telling me earlier about discipline, girl? I think we both agree a spanking is meaningless if it is just a few slaps on the butt."

I lay my hand on hers, pressing it hard against the marble bar top.

"I want you to respectfully ask me for the punishment you deserve, Jessica, not for a little girl spanking that would not leave you sorry, but rather very frustrated. Of course I will be mindful this is new to you, but it will be discipline."

As I speak, I take hold of the hem of her skirt, and slowly motion upwards, as if ready to expose her naked cheeks in this very public place.

"I... I would like to humbly and respectfully ask you to discipline me, Sir. I'm a little scared that you seem to know me so well..., but you are right, I deserve to be soundly punished, just as you see fit, and tonight. Please Sir, will you give me my spanking?"

"I will be glad to oblige, girl."

Bringing her hand close to my lips, I kiss it lightly, then help her stand on her feet. We leave the restaurant and chat innocently on our way to the car. It is a truly exceptional evening, right about 80 degrees with low humidity, a nice breeze... We reach the car a few minutes later, and I hold the door for her while she slips on the smooth saddle leather seat of the convertible Lexus.

"Now, the rule about sitting directly on the seat applies in the car as well, Jessica."

Obediently, she raises her hips and brings the hem of her skirt to the level of her waist in the back, while still making sure the top of her thighs are covered in the front.

"And don't forget the safety belt!"

We enjoy the drive to her apartment with the top down, admiring the illuminated memorials, grateful for the strict building code forbidding skyscrapers. We are lucky to find a spot right in front of her apartment building. I walk around the car to open her door, and she blushes as she comes out of the car. The elevator ride to her floor, the fourth, is especially slow. Her door is right across from the elevator, she slides her key, opens the door, and we are inside. Jessica turns the light on. Her apartment feels very cozy, with two comfortable-looking old world leather armchairs, a bookshelf that occupies the entire length of the living room, and a thick Persian rug. With both arms extended as if to reach both extremes of the room, Jessica greets me:

"Welcome to my world, Philippe!"

She knows my rule about a scheduled punishment that is about to begin, and how she must act as soon as the privacy necessary to the disciplinary session has been reached.

"You remember what to do, Jessica, we went over it."

Jessica comes closer, kneels right in front of me, then brings both her hands behind her back, right above her waistline.

"Thank you for coming this evening, Sir, and welcome again. Would you like me to serve you a drink? I'll be glad to get it for you."

She then looks down, holding her submissive position. I look at her and her beauty strikes me, as if I was just seeing her for the first time. Her face is very innocent for a 28 year old and she looks closer to 20, her eyes are the color of jade and seem almost too big for the rest of her visage, her long blond hair is falling freely down to her waist, her black fishnet stockings contrast nicely against the pale skin of her thighs. I sense her trust towards me, and it means everything in the world. I don't want to disappoint her, not today, not ever. If things evolve as I hope they will, I want her trust to grow ten-fold after tonight. I felt perfectly in symbiosis with her when we were sharing our deepest secrets online then over the phone, and now the magic goes on in person. I know, however, that because of who we are, our true hidden selves will not unlock until I have taken her over my knee for a long, hard spanking that will leave her marked for days. I know this spanking is not about giving gratuitous pain, it is not about making her cry purposeless tears; it is about communicating in the most appropriate, the most meaningful way we possibly can at this very moment of our relationship. And then, beyond, setting the premise for what could become the realization that every couple's distant dream, meeting your soulmate, can be a reality. That is how I feel now. That is how I have felt since we started sharing about ourselves.

"You are very beautiful, Jessica."

She looks up.

"And so are you, Philippe, very handsome."

Some of her nervousness has dissipated from her smile, but I know nothing will strip away her anxiety until she has gone through what I have in mind for her. I extend my hand to her.

"Show me the paddle now, Jessica."

She takes my hand, pulls on it and stands up.

"Let me show you around and take you to it, Sir."

She shows me the kitchen. I know she often brings take-out food home, and eats out quite a bit, but I get the feeling, looking at the variety of well-made pots and pans, that she is much more than a casual cook, and I am pleased that she is. Jessica then takes me to her bedroom, a fresh, romantic, country-style room highlighted by what seems to be the most comfortable bed I have ever seen, complete with 6 thick pillows and a big brown teddy bear. I see, high above the iron bedpost, hanging form a simple hook... the famous paddle. She notices my stare, and motions towards the wall.

"Would you like to hold it, Sir?"

"I just want you take it for now, Jessica, I will tell you when to hand it to me."

She nods and reaches out to remove the little leather band used to hang the instrument off its hook. She then turns back to face me, hands behind her back. She looks up to meet my regard and smiles.

"I thought you were keeping your paddle in your old treasure chest, or so you had told me, girl?"

"Well, yes Sir, I was until last week. But then I wanted to remind myself what was coming, I was trying to get acquainted with it as a... household instrument..., also to remind me to behave, you see, so I put it above my bed."

"I do like the idea of it being in full display in your room, Jessica, that is the spot you should always keep it at. Excellent choice indeed."

She blushes.

"Now, let's go back to the living room, girl."

She keeps her hands behind her back as she walks back to the main room, her right hand holding firmly the paddle's handle.

"I'll take you up on your offer for a drink, Jessica. It will keep me company for what's coming next."

She looks at me quizzically.

"I see you have Glenmorangie, you are indeed a perfect hostess. I'll have it straight."

Jessica sets the paddle on the low table, then reaches for the bottle of single malt and pour me a glass in a crystal highball glass.

"I don't suppose it is appropriate for me to join you for a drink right now, Sir?"

"The last thing I want, girl, is to numb you against the effects of your discipline... but you can have a sip from mine, it will erode some of your anxiety..."

She takes the glass I offer her, sips the liquid slowly, then takes a deep breath as if to amplify the soothing effect. Her cheeks immediately take a pink color. I smile.

"This is the last time this evening your cheeks will change colors by artificial means, girl, I promise you that."

"Somehow, I believe you, Sir", she says mischievously.

"Now, Jessica, I want you to take a moment to think why I am here today, to think about the discipline you need in your life. I want you to think of accountability, about a type of relationship where you are held accountable and pay a price for not following the rules. From now on I want you to do exactly as you are told, I promise I will be harsher if you are disobedient in any way. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir." Her tonality is firm and no longer possess the soft, casual accent she was using when saying the same words earlier.

"I want you to remove your dress and your shoes, and go face the wall, with your hands on top of your head."

With a movement of the chin I point at the wall across from her wide bookshelf.

"Yes Sir."

Jessica approaches the back of the closest of the four high back chairs that surround the dinner table, unzips the back of her black dress, and slowly at first, as if undecided, then in one quick movement, she slides it over her head and rests it across the top of the chair. Two seconds later she has parted from her shoes as well, pushing them out using the opposite foot. She has her back to me, only wearing a black bra of what appears to be the most exquisite lace work, and a black garter belt of the same material holding her fishnet stockings.

I now see her bottom for the first time. I can't remember, even in the most idealized statues of callipygian women of bygone times, ever contemplating such absolute beauty. It is round but firm, so perfectly spheric that it appears too big perhaps for her waist, but that is just the proportion that has always fascinated me. It gives her an appearance of fragility due to the waist looking thiner on top of the full buttocks, but also gorgeous femininity thanks to the wide hips and well-shaped behind. I almost lose track of the reason why she is presenting herself to me this way for a few seconds, but quickly come to my senses.

"Before you face the wall, Jessica, I want you to bring me the paddle."

"Yes Sir."

Jessica now turns to face me, and as she steps in my direction to pick the paddle resting on the table, I see her perfectly shaved pubis. It appears so smooth it seems no hair ever grew there. She looks at me shyly, picks up the paddle and hands it to me with a little curtsy that brings warmth in my hearth, then looks down and brings her hands behind her back, awaiting my next command.

"Thank you, girl. Now I want you nose against the wall, hands above your head. I'll tell you when to come out. Go."

"Yes Sir", this time a whisper.

She walks up to the wall, raises her hands so they rest above her head, and keeps her position without a word.

I install myself comfortably in one of the two club armchairs, and take a sip of the Scotch. It is not my usual brand, and it tastes better than I recall. I look at Jessica, she is perfectly still. I want her to use those few moments to disconnect from her daily life, her routine and enter discipline-land, both physically and in the most remote corners of her mind. I want her to absorb the idea that she is about to be subject to a strict punishment, and prepare herself the best she can for it. I still hold the paddle she has presented to me. It is probably about 18 inches long and no more than 3 inches wide, quite heavier than it looks. It appears to be made of solid oak. Unvarnished. It projects an old-fashioned and reliable feel that I appreciate. Jessica will be properly spanked.

PART II

A good ten minutes have passed, Jessica is still perfectly still, facing the wall where I sent her. It is time to start attending to my sacred duty.

"Come here and face me, Jessica."

She turns around and walks towards me, her hands still clasped over her head, as if locked together.

"We both know what is about to start now, girl", I continue. "I want to remind you that this more than just an introduction to spanking for you, it is also your introduction to discipline. This is what we have discussed over the last few weeks. Of course I will remember throughout your punishment that this is a first for you, but don't expect to be treated as a little girl. You will be dealt with as a fully grown woman, in a strict and thorough way. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir, I do."

"Now, I want you over my lap, Jessica."

She swallows hard, and slowly bends over my lap to take her position. I give her a couple of light smacks across the center of her buttocks and tell her to slide her body forward a little so she can present me with a fuller target. Her bottom is relaxed and immaculately white, firm with baby-soft skin.

SMACK.

I start spanking her with light swats peppered with medium ones, as I want to help her build her acceptance and tolerance to the spanking. After a couple of minutes, she reacts with soft moans. We both have entered the spanking universe, a special place where it is easy to lose track of time. Several minutes have passed and her bottom is a pretty, uniform pink. The moans become more audible. Her flesh bounces adorably, and she starts moving her hips sideways as if trying to avoid my punishing hand. I give her a hard swat and remind her she is to facilitate her punishment, not hinder it, and she keeps still. I spank her another five minutes or so, then stop.

"Stand up, girl."

She awkwardly stands up on her feet, her legs stiff from laying across my legs, stares at me with inquisitive eyes, and brings both hands in front in an attempt to hide her sex from view.